


Stuck Slipping Through the Cracks (of a dark eternity)

by asahinayuuta



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 10:22:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4056457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asahinayuuta/pseuds/asahinayuuta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>he only has five more days - only five more days before the pull the plug on him - this condition all because drivers think they need to text while driving</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stuck Slipping Through the Cracks (of a dark eternity)

It feels like an eternity since you even go to talk to him -

you hate it.

****  
  


It feels like you never will get to ever again, and you almost know this is true. He has a 5% chance of making it, according to the doctor. And because he has no known (living) family, he doesn’t have anyone that can make them wait. Make the doctors wait.

**  
**

to pull the plug on him.

to end his life in front of everyone.

he has five more days.

that’s it.

**  
**

You hate losing people.

**  
**

You hate people.

**  
**

People that don’t know how to drive.

People that can’t watch out for pedestrians.

People that think whomever’s texting them is way

more important than keeping their eyes on the road.

People that don’t think about consequences.

You hate the universe.

And you hate the lies on fortune.

**  
**

You wish you could do something. But you only have five days. Five days.

**  
**

Five days of sitting in a hospital room.

Five days of pure torture.

Five days of regret.

Five days.

**  
**

Your alarm blares.

**  
**

And for the first time. You realize how long you have really been up. For the first time you care enough to bring your eyes to the clock. You might drag you head to see, and you might have to wipe away stale, burning tears you didn’t know were there, and you might have to scratch your leg just to make sure you aren’t numb. But you see the clock.

**  
**

6:35 a.m.

**  
**

Add time to the list of things you hate.

 

How fast it goes.

**  
**

4 days.

**  
**

One part of it all - that just adds on, is that you are letting him go without telling him how you feel. Without telling him you like him, you can’t anymore now, there is almost no way he’d hear you, although he’s not dead yet, the only thing keeping him alive is all the stupid machines and all the annoying doctors.

**  
**

You get to get up again this morning to go see him, to say your now 4 day long goodbye. A goodbye that shouldn’t have to last so long, something that shouldn’t even exist but every morning, and every night you get to look at him, and think about all the times you had with each other, all the times that you got to see him smile, all the times that you got to really talk to him and not someone who wasn’t him - someone taken over by tumors and illnesses that have taken home in.

**  
**

From the edge of your bed to the door feels like too long of a distance, making the one from your house to the hospital feel like an eternity (though it’s always felt that way).

**  
**

A soft groan escapes your mouth when you try desperately to pull the blankets completely off for another long, miserable, boring day.

**  
**

You wonder as you look into the mirror, how your face can put on such a mask when you fake a smile. How can features hide something so agonizing. Why is body language used all the time as a decisive when really it’s easy to fake something, something like how bad you really feel, like this heavy coat of just hiding everything under it, your smile hides every time your thoughts try to murder you.

**  
**

Your mind is stuck. Uncertainty enveloping you - until you can’t break free. Your thoughts shift, and you hate the feeling. A sick feeling. You never realized how much you might think a person’s okay - but in reality they are mentally hurting themselves and hating themselves.

**  
**

(worst of all you hate how you think your world is falling down around you;

 when in reality, his is)

****  
  


You take your jacket off the coat rack and head out the door. Your bus fee in one pocket; headphones and ipod in the other. You stumble half drunkenly out the door and mumble uselessly underneath your breath.

**  
**

(is this what it means to be in love?;

                                                       to despair every moment you know they can’t be with you;

                                                                                            and to hate horrible, freak accidents that happen to the other?;

                                                                                                                              if so, then you aren’t sure if being in love was so appealing)

**  
**

The bus stop and the streets and the city feels empty even though it’s buzzing with life.

**  
**

All you notice is the dull hole of pain;

**  
**

Although the city is filled with anything but that.

**  
**

Tripping onto the bus really made the entrance; but you don’t really care, all you have to do is pay the bus fee and get to the hospital, you don’t have to prove to every stranger in the bus that you aren’t drunk, all you need to prove to them is that you aren’t in the mood for talking.

**  
**

And you put two earphones in; one at a time;

**  
**

And you let yourself sink into the music.

**  
**

(and you check the window every song to see where the bus is)

**  
**

By the end of the third song you are at the hospital. You leave, a slight nod and that fake smile toward the bus driver.

**  
**

(certainly he knows someone who is stopping at the hospital, someone he saw not speak to anyone; someone like that can’t be giving him a real smile)

**  
**

Walking turns slowly into your muscles and bones and whatever else moving each other, your brain and thoughts not working together well to tell you what’s going on, breathing turns into thin pipes trying hard to work on their own consuming oxygen and letting out anything else, blinking turns into something of necessity with how much you can’t, you senses became blurred bundles of what once was important, your beating heart has to work hard to keep its owner alive; although it’s owner wouldn’t mind if it murdered him right now - stop it from moving blood helping him live, but despairingly his brain asks these parts to keep their shit together and to work together because it _has_ to see _him_ -

_(at least one more time, please....)_

**  
**

Your shallow automatic breathing starts to sound unhealthy and weak.

**  
**

You hate to walk into this hospital every day that you do.

**  
**

And you still do it it

**  
**

(today)

\----------------------------------------------

**  
**

(tomorrow)

**  
**

\----------------------------------------------

**  
**

(and the next day)

**  
**

\-----------------------------------------------

**  
**

(until they are ready to pull the plug)

**  
**

You stand beside him. The doctor says something but you don’t hear.

**  
**

You can’t waste your time on hearing, not now. You try to smile at him, but it quivers and leaves and salt watered tears reach your mouth and burn your eyes, the feeling sinks into your throat as if little pins are stabbing into it with every produced tear.

**  
**

Your heart beats faster.

**  
**

And you are stuck to feel it.

**  
**

_bumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbumpbump_

**  
**

You lean down and try to feel for his, pulling what they’ll let you of his limp body into a short, small embrace.

**  
**

This means more to you than anything else; he does; and all you get is it ripped from you,

**  
**

you hate it

you hate it

you hate it

you hate it

hate it

hate it

hate it

hateit

hateit

**  
**

You want to scream - to rip every little broken piece of you up so you can finally say how broken you are, so people can see how you are, how you feel how much you are affected. You want try to pull air into your lungs, but you are convinced all you can put into them is fire, because they burn, to the point you think they are going to shrivel up and turn to ashes, something that seems better than the moment you have been stuck in.

**  
**

“I….l-l-l-l-love you, no matter what….fu-ck...I...love you….g-g-g-god….god…”, you let out between raspy breaths. And you hear a weak, short gasp.

**  
**

/// then everything happens so fast around you.

**  
**

(but even after the fight)

**  
**

\\\\\ his eyes still close lightly when you pull away

**  
**

And you fall into a pile of misery, sinking into a chair you were put into by a nurse. You are asked questions and offered things but you refuse, you don’t want to talk. You want to know what happened, you want them to talk so you can listen. You want to know if he is breathing.

**  
so they tell you**


End file.
